ARTS WATCH. Rock review.

Quartet Pumps Fresh Air Into Rock Format

February 20, 1996|By Greg Kot, Tribune rock critic.

The sound of two guitars, bass and drums playing together is so ingrained in the rock vocabulary that sometimes it's taken for granted, and lately it's sounding a little tired. Then along comes a band like Sea and Cake, and the format no longer sounds so confining.

Over the weekend at Lounge Ax, the Chicago quartet put on a ravishing display of how four people, using the standard rock instrumentation, can expand the definition of what it means to be a rock band in the mid-'90s. Indeed, some would say that what Sea and Cake play isn't rock at all. The ensemble draws on several traditions, not all of them part of the standard rock lineage.

The guitars of Archer Prewitt and Sam Prekop eschew the classic Rolling Stones' profile of lead and rhythm, instead interacting in a way that recalls a be-bop or African juju band. They create a latticework of melodies and rhythms, which chirp and chatter. But there are also rock power chords, long drones and other sonic treatments that give each song its own cinematic backdrop. This dialogue is often joined by bassist Eric Claridge, whose instrument speaks like a third guitar instead of a rhythm anchor.

Making it all go is the remarkably versatile drummer John McEntire, who, like the other band members, seamlessly integrates a fresh rhythmic approach to every song. Where most bands try to crunch or caress, Sea and Cake skitters and slides between these extremes, with a sense of swing that evokes a vintage soul groove on "Leeora," a hazy, sun-kissed daydream on "Bring My Car I Feel to Smash It."

Although the sound on the group's three excellent albums (on the local Thrill Jockey label) is augmented by instruments such as synthesizers and strings, the group's songs are sturdy enough to stand without sweetening.

This is because Prekop's shaggy voice, even as it incorporates soul falsetto and jazzy phrasing, projects a conversational ease grounded in melody. This was most apparent on a solo version of "Sending," in which Prekop's tender yearning gave way to wistful humming. It's the kind of song that listeners will find themselves humming for a few days.

Opening were jazz-punk minimalists All Insect Union and Log Letters, an elemental guitar duo who made the most of a clever gimmick by playing along to the rhythms of various drummers on video. In every instance, the generally more flamboyant and visible drummers outshone the live band, the type of mild irony that may make subsequent performances less amusing.